


Careful What You Wish For

by ShadowBiscuit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sam, Blood As Lube, Bottom Dean, Crying Dean, Dark, Dirty Talk, Fucked Up, Hatred, Hurt Dean, M/M, Non-con incest, Pain Kink, Rape Fantasy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm thoughts, Top Sam, Twisted Dean, Violent Sex, angst and hurt, crushed dreams, it's real rape, like seriously, no love, without the comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 10:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4743539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowBiscuit/pseuds/ShadowBiscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When fantasy become reality, it isn’t that much fun anymore…</p>
<p>Dean has been having this fantasy, this sick, twisted thing in his mind. He knows it's wrong, but he doesn't care. Then one day it happens, his dreams come true, but nothing's ever as good as it seems at first glance. And when the wrong person sees him in that pathetic state, and then does indescribable things to him...Dean realizes the tortures in Hell weren't that bad, after all.<br/>Certainly better than what his own brother was doing to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Careful What You Wish For

 

In this world of gods and monsters, of angels and demons, no man can stay sane for long. If you lead a normal life, oblivious and blind to the dangers this world truly holds, you might just make it. Never disturbing the beast in the darkness, venturing into the real belly of evil and merely scratching at the surface, then you have the chance of reaching your deathbed without going totally apeshit.

Because even these, normal people go crazy sometimes, so what is that supposed to say about those who know this world for what it really is?

The hunters and the hunted. Those that caught a glimpse of the ugly but true face of Earth and beyond, those who got dragged into a new life without ever being asked, never even getting the chance to say no or leave it all behind. Because once you see it, you can never look back, never look away. This new life sucks you in and then you’re suddenly a part of it, live and breathe for it, bleed and die with it. You live the rest of your wretched life hand in hand with Death, any breath holding the possibility of being your last one.

A life like that… Of course it would make people insane.

Dean Winchester has seen it all. He fought Heaven and Hell, monsters from every nook and cranny of the world, even killed fucking fairies and dragons. He was born and raised into this life, the life of a hunter, and even when he tried to pretend that the shadows in the corner weren’t moving, tried doing what he did best and lie to himself, live a normal life with a woman and a kid he loved, Dean failed. He was destined to fail, doomed to live the life of a man who could turn from predator to prey in a single moment. Years and years of hunting, of spilling blood that didn’t always belong to monsters, of sleepless nights and feeling the weight of constant guilt and responsibility on his shoulders made him into the person he was now.

A person that, if his past self would meet in the dark corners of a back alley, he’d beat up merely on principle.

But he couldn’t help it, couldn’t control the man he had become. This life changed him for the worse, but he didn’t mind, just couldn’t care anymore. Wouldn’t care, even if could have. Because he enjoyed it all, the nasty thoughts that swirled around in his mind, the way they made him shiver, the sick fantasies turning him on in a way that should have been wrong and majorly fucked up, but weren’t. Not to him, to a man so broken and empty that imagining such things didn’t even make him flinch inwardly.

He felt like his skin was on fire every time a monster slammed him into a wall. He felt anger and fear, but also excitement, the sort that wasn’t normal when a vampire’s fangs were inches away from his throat, when a demon was pinning him against a wall and trying to break his arm. But deep down, Dean wanted to let go. He wanted to know how it would feel like to just give in, to let them use his body as their punching bag and more. Yes, so much more. He wanted to give up power, give up being a hunter and turn into a victim, weak and vulnerable. He was fantasizing about rape, about being held down and taken by force. He wanted the monster to rip his clothes off, to hurt him bad, to cut his skin and force his way inside Dean’s body, make him bleed and cry and shatter. He wanted to be manhandled, needed to know how getting a thick cock up his ass would feel like, blood rushing to his own cock from the thought. And each time he and his brother were on a hunt, Dean secretly wished for the werewolf or ghoul, or whatever they came to kill, to grab him and make him scream, to make him forget about his life and all the shit that he’s been through, to take control and let him enjoy being taken care of, good and hard and rough and fucking bloody.

Yes, he was a grown man and he was hoping to get raped by a monster, ripped apart and fucked out until blood and come was leaking from his gaping hole.

Anyone would do, as long as they would fuck him cruelly and just the way he wanted. And of course, as long as Dean didn’t know them. He refused to even think about having someone like Crowley or Castiel having his way with him, that was simply disgusting. It was weird, him feeling disgust toward such a trivial thing, but it was important to him. Because with a monster, it would only be a quick fuck, the kind of rape he has been dreaming about, but if he knew the man, then that would change everything. They would have to meet again, and Dean wouldn’t survive that.

Which was why, when he started involving Sam in his fantasies, he made sure not to give him the role of the rapist.

Even thinking of his brother holding him down made him want to throw up. Strange how that got him to despise himself, but not the rest of his fantasies. In his mind, getting raped by strangers, by monsters, was fine. But having Sammy’s hands on his body? Hell no.

So he kept daydreaming, imagining the beasts wildly tearing his tight entrance open, fucking him silly until they came hard and deep inside Dean, and then Sam would show up. Sam would save him. Sam would get angry and slaughter the monsters, would rip them off Dean and gut them with his bare hands, then would scoop his bleeding brother into his arms and comfort him. The Sam in his fantasies was gentle and caring, never touching Dean. He was the comfort after the sex, his savior, and it was perfect. Getting raped and then rescued by his little brother was his dream, and he was pretty sure that his Heaven would look just like that, would involve constant rape followed by his Sammy nursing him back to health before he’d get taken again.

And right now, too, it were these thoughts that suddenly came to his mind as Dean grunted in pain when the demon slashed at his arm.

They were in a ballroom filled with tables and chairs, most of which have toppled over or were lying in pieces on the floor thanks to the fight that has broken out a few minutes ago. They were on a hunt, at first thinking that the culprits belonged to the skinwalker species, as all the victims were torn apart. The wounds on their bodies mainly consisted of bites, and they were too big to belong to a relatively human set of teeth. They looked more canine than anything, so of course Sam and Dean believed that some skinwalkers were changing into dogs and having some fun while dining on innocents.

Deciding that infiltrating the place would be the smartest choice—after they found out that every victim had attended a fancy little party—they switched the FBI suits to black tuxedos. Initially surprised that the party looked more like some sort of old-fashioned ball, they still managed to quickly blend in and engage in small talk with a few of the guests.

And then a demon recognized them and successfully ruined everyone’s fun by turning his eyes black and attacking Sam.

Every human ran for it, bolting for the exit and soon, only the demons and they were left in the room. And turns out the culprits weren’t skinwalkers after all, but demons with some real hungry Hellhounds.

Thankfully, only one of the dogs were present at the moment, and Sam managed to knife the invisible canine after several failed attempts, while Dean hurled plates, cutleries, and some nice padded chairs at the pissed off demons.

“You’ve gotta try harder than that,” Dean taunted the demon that slashed at his arm, grinning when it bared its teeth at him.

“Don’t get too cocky, Winchester. You wouldn’t want me angry.”

He snorted. “Take it easy, Bruce Banner. You might pop a vein.”

Then he wasn’t grinning anymore, but grunting in pain as another demon got him from behind, shattering a wine bottle on his head. He staggered forward and turned around, glaring daggers at the demon before raising his knife and lunging at it. Unfortunately, in his moment of irritation, Dean forgot about Hulk, and suddenly he was being flung through the air and across the room, hitting the far wall with a pained sound.

“Dean!” he could hear his brother shout, and looked up from the floor to see him trying to make his way to Dean by swishing his blade at everything that blocked him.

And he wanted to tell Sam that he was fine, that he should just worry about himself and the swarm of demons still alive—in a way—and moving around the room, but then he found himself unable to speak. All of a sudden, there was a demon standing right in front of him and lifting Dean up by his throat, before slamming him into the wall and he was pretty sure he was going to get a concussion if he would keep receiving blows to the back of the head.

He tried glaring at the demon, though that wasn’t so easy with that son of a bitch squeezing his throat and cutting off the air from entering his lungs.

“I warned you,” the demon growled, narrowing its pitch black eyes and digging its fingers into Dean’s flesh.

And then Dean was panicking, trying but failing at breathing and, fuck, it felt so good. He clawed at the demon’s hand as his eyes bulged, suddenly feeling dizzy but turned on at the same time, his cock twitching to life and quickly hardening in his underwear. The demon just laughed, probably thinking that Dean was in pain and suffering, and when he unconsciously let out a small whimper, it chuckled.

“Are you getting off on this?” it asked while moving his other hand to Dean’s growing bulge, and this was it, his fantasy was becoming reality. He whined, bucking into the touch and feeling weaker by the second.

The demon let up the pressure around his throat, but Dean whimpered at the loss because he enjoyed it, wanted to get strangled, apparently into even more things than he thought. He blinked lazily, trying to put on a fight when the demon grabbed the tent in his pants and squeezed hard, then suddenly he was turned around and pushed into the wall and he moaned.

“The great Dean Winchester, really? Is this really it?” The demon chuckled, grinding against Dean’s ass and drawing a wretched sound from the hunter. “How fucking pathetic. You’re just a slut. Look how much you want it, it’s ridiculous. I should just kill you right now, you disgusting piece of shit. But you know what? I think this might actually be fun.”

Then it ripped Dean’s pants and underwear off with one brutal yank, all the while keeping the hunter in place with some kind of invisible force. And that was just perfect for him, because he would have put up a fight if not for the force, since this was supposed to be rape, he wanted this to be rape.

“Fuck off,” he protested weakly, then made some sort of yelp when he felt the demon’s dick against his ass.

“More like fuck you, right?” the demon scoffed. “You make me sick, Winchester. Fucking trash,” it hissed with so much hate and contempt in its voice that Dean mewled, loving it. And then he was moaning loudly when the demon’s cock finally breached his dry entrance, forcing its way in and making Dean impossibly hard.

The demon was laughing, a roaring sound, and then began fucking him with savage slams of its hips. It was too fast and too hard, Dean’s hole tearing and bleeding. He could feel his warm blood as it trickled down his thigh, and then he was screaming in pain and pleasure, the pleasure only there _because_ of the unbearable but amazing pain, the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the wet and squelching sound of the demon’s fat cock slipping in and out of his bloody hole intoxicating. It hurt so damn much, being filled to such an extent, but Dean never wanted it to stop, wanted to feel the demon come inside him, wanted it to fuck him even harder, cruelly and violently and—

And then that amazing dick was gone and he collapsed to his knees, panting and whimpering at the loss.

“Dean…” Sam grabbed him by his shoulders and turned the desolate man around. The rescue came a bit too soon, but it was fine, Dean was fine, because his fantasy came true and he got raped and now Sammy saved him and was going to take care of him.

But as he looked at his brother, he suddenly felt the blood turn to ice in his veins.

“Dean,” Sam repeated his name, his voice not normal. It couldn’t be normal, something was horribly wrong, because he sounded like he was growling, furious and something else, what else?

“Sammy, I’m…” Dean tried, wanted to say something, but suddenly his mind was shutting down from a sort of fear he has never, not once in his entire life felt before.

Sam glanced at the dead body of the demon he must have knifed while Dean was getting raped, and then he felt like crying, felt his muscles tense and whole body freeze as he realized he was rock hard and that his little brother saw it.

Immediately, he was freaking the fuck out, trying to cover himself while hissing from the pain in his ass, but then their eyes met, and Dean held his breath.

“No way,” Sam whispered, then shook his head, his eyes empty of any emotion except for hatred, so much hatred and revulsion.

“Sam—”

“I can’t fucking believe this!” he yelled, his face flushing as anger overtook him, and suddenly his hands were wrapped around Dean’s neck and shoving him into the wall as he fell on his torn ass and groaned. “You sick bastard! I can’t believe you were enjoying it! Dean, that demon was raping you! Rape!”

Dean tried to say something, but closed his eyes instead, since he couldn’t say anything with his brother’s strong and trembling hands around his throat. But then one of the hands was gone, and Dean gasped when Sam backhanded him.

“Fucking look at me, you sorry ass bastard!” Sam snapped, and Dean’s chest was aching more than his ass. “Is this what you like? Getting fucked in the ass by a monster? Do you fucking get off on this shit? Seriously?”

“Sammy, please…” he managed to gasp, his voice merely a whisper as Sam’s grip tightened.

“I bet you like this too…” his brother growled, and then even the anger, all the betrayal left his eyes. His face turned emotionless, his eyes hollow, his voice flat with only a hint of revulsion. “I bet you like getting choked. It wouldn’t even surprise me anymore. I never thought I’d say this, but you fucking disgust me. I’m goddamn ashamed to be related to you, to a man who likes it when another man’s fucking him, gets hard from it. Don’t you feel any shame? I guess not, judging from the way you were moaning like a whore.”

Tears welled up in Dean’s eyes and he felt his face burning. Damn right he was ashamed, though only because his brother has seen him like this, heard him while he was loving that demon’s cock. It hurt so much, his heart breaking over and over again as he saw that blank look, and he knew Sam hated him. What was worse, his brother felt not only furious but it took him visible effort not to pull a face and flinch, not to pull away in utter disgust and leave him forever.

Then Sam did pull away and Dean panicked, not wanting his brother to leave, God please no, don’t let him leave.

“Sam, no, you’re wrong,” he said, his voice weak even as he tried raising it. “I’m not like that, this was… Sam, this was nothing, please!”

“What nothing? You got an erection while taking it in the ass by a demon!” Sam spat, sudden flames on anger flashing in his eyes, but then they were gone just as quickly as they appeared. “You can’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy it, Dean. You nearly came like that, just from the feeling of that guy’s cock alone.”

But Dean was shaking his head, even though it was true, even though Sam was right. He never meant for this to happen, this was not how it was supposed to happen! All of this felt like it was a dream, like it wasn’t actually happening, because sure, he wished for this for so long, loved it when it happened for real, but Sam wasn’t supposed to know!

“Just listen to me, okay? The demon did something to me,” he lied, it came so easily, so he lied, “and I couldn’t control it. It had me held down and I couldn’t help it, it wasn’t me, Sammy, never. I need you to see that, need you to understand that I’m not like that!”

His brother let out a humorless laugh. “You really think that lie is going to fool me? No, Dean. You’re one sick son of a bitch, and you will say it.” His brother’s eyes narrowed as he suddenly leaned closer, and Dean could feel that same fear coursing through his veins again, making his breath hitch. “You will tell me, will not lie to me again. Say it, Dean. Admit how much you loved it, loved getting raped. Wasn’t really rape like that, was it?”

Dean blinked and looked at his brother in shock. “No, I’m not lying!” he exclaimed, desperate. “I won’t say it, Sam, I’m telling the truth. Please, I didn’t like it, not really, please don’t make me—”

Sam grabbed his hair, making the hunter stop talking and hiss in pain instead as he fisted a hand in his hair and yanked his head back, then leaned even closer and snarled at him. “You _are_ lying. It’s so damn obvious, so don’t you fucking take me for a fool, Dean,” he growled, then his gaze lowered to Dean’s flaccid dick, his erection disappearing while he listened to his brother’s painful words. “I’ll make you say it, one way or another.”

And then Sam let go of his hair, fumbled with his own pants before tugging his clothes off, and knelt on the floor in front of Dean.

“Sam?” He stared at his brother, trying to crawl away and merge with the wall pressed against his back, but then Sam was grabbing his knees and spreading his legs, and Dean’s eyes went comically wide.

“Gonna show you the sort of person you really are, Dean. Fucking lying to me, how dare you, you little whore,” his brother said lowly, tightening his hold and sinking his nails into Dean’s skin when he tried to close his legs.

When that obviously didn’t work, he tried kicking his brother, but Sam opened his legs even wider, making it completely impossible for him to land a kick, especially when Sam slid forward and positioned himself between Dean’s legs. “Sam, stop it,” he ordered, though they both knew it was more of a plea, a knot forming in his throat when he watched as his brother grabbed his own dick and looked at Dean.

“Is this what you want?”

Dean frowned. “What? No!”

“Of course it is,” Sam said with a laugh, then began stroking his cock, which Dean only just realized was huge, fitting his brother’s height. “You just want to get fucked like a bitch. That’s it, right? Say it, say you want a cock, any cock up your ass.”

“No, I don’t!” Dean shook his head, his shoulders hurting as he kept pressing himself into the wall. He was seriously terrified now, and maybe a bit angry, because he couldn’t believe Sam was asking him to say that.

But Sam wasn’t buying any of it, and he moved even closer before wrapping Dean’s legs around his waist and pulling him away from the wall. Dean struggled, crawling back to the safety of the wall, but then Sam was pushing him down with a violent shove and soon, Dean was lying on the floor with his brother kneeling between his legs. He unwrapped them from around his brother’s waist and tried kicking him in the face, but Sam’s hands were swift, quickly grabbing his thighs, and Dean gasped when his legs were pushed so far up that his knees were nearly touching his shoulders.

And then he couldn’t keep being in denial anymore, because it suddenly became obvious what Sam was planning to do.

“You’re bleeding, but I bet you even enjoyed that,” Sam scoffed, rubbing his half-hard cock against Dean’s abused hole. “There’s blood all over your ass, Dean, and I can see the wound in your ass, the rip in your skin. But you love it, so say it. Come on, say it, tell me how much it hurt and how good it felt. Tell me how badly you need a cock in there.”

Dean was hyperventilating, his heart threatening to bail on him as he panted under his brother from shock and fear, so much damn fear, nearly starting to tremble. He kept on shuddering and felt waves of nausea as Sam kept on grinding against him, against his injured entrance.

“Stop it! Just stop, Sam, I don’t fucking like it!” he shouted, tears finally leaving his eyes, tears of frustration and horror, and then he was thrashing on the floor, unable to take this. He needed to get away from Sam, from his brother who was about to rape him for real. Dean was going to experience real, gut-churning and traumatizing rape, the kind that wouldn’t bring him any enjoyment at all because it was Sam doing it, his own brother Sam. He was going to have a mental breakdown, was already screaming in anger and frustration, in terror, struggling and writhing as Sam tried to hold him down, then started beating him. He punched Dean, over and over again, splitting his lip and leaving several bruises on his face, then he stopped moving altogether when Sam pressed the blade he used to kill the demon against Dean’s throat.

“Stop moving,” he barked, and Dean obeyed, tears streaming down his face as he lay unmoving on the floor, holding his breath and only letting it out after Sam removed the blade from his skin. “There. Now, I will make you say it. I will make you admit that you’re a sick, fucked up man with fucked up kinks. I will prove it, prove that you’re a damn liar, and a horrible one at that.”

He couldn’t let Sam rape him. He wouldn’t survive that. He was sick and fucked up, fine, but he never wanted it to be Sam. Not him. Anyone but him…

So he broke and begged. “Please Sam, no! I liked it, I liked when he raped me, yes, but stop, just stop!” he sobbed, looking up at his brother with pleading eyes, because he couldn’t take it anymore. Anything but this, he didn’t care if Sam hated him, he would shatter and die inside, but he still couldn’t let this happen.

But Sam smirked and shook his head, then raised Dean’s legs and placed them on his shoulders, before lining up his dick with the older hunter’s hole.

“Yeah, you liked it. And you will like this, too.”

And then Dean’s mind went blank as his own little brother thrust his cock so far up and deep in his ass that he fainted. But only just for a moment, a few seconds, then he was back in the cruel reality, immediately crying out in pain and suffering, in sorrow and betrayal, in fury. Sam was fucking into him hard and way too soon, reopening the wound and making more, because his cock was so huge, thick and hard. Yes, his brother was hard now, probably because of the tightness of Dean’s hole, which was burning and stinging and stretching, fucking getting ripped open by his little brother.

His throat hurt as he screamed, high-pitched and louder than ever, felt like he could pass out again from the pain alone, tried pushing Sam out and away, but his brother had him pinned to the floor. His fingers were wrapped around Dean’s wrists as he raped him, at first with long, drawn-out pulls, then was quick to speed up, ramming into him with such force that Dean’s head kept bumping into the wall, his whole body rocking with each slam of Sam’s hips. He drove his long, thick shaft into Dean, reaching him deeper than the demon, fucking him way more aggressively and viciously, all the while growling and talking.

“You love this, love taking it so rough and painful, yeah?” Sam laughed, his dick twitching inside Dean. “Love your little brother’s cock fucking you, you sick pervert. Want it more and faster, don’t you? Can’t ever get enough of it, am I right? Screaming, but it’s not pain, is it? You’re screaming because you love it, love getting used as a little fuck toy, like the cockslut you are!”

And while Sam kept on ravaging his body, Dean cried and couldn’t even get hard. He was rock hard while the demon was pounding his ass, but this? This was torture. It was worse than all those years he spent in Hell. His dick was flaccid and he was certain it even shrunk in utter disgust. His whole body was shuddering violently, loathing every single second of this, his hate for Sam growing. Dean deserved to get abandoned and to be called a freak, but not this. How could his own brother do this to him? How could Sam break him so cruelly, take him apart and humiliate him? Sam was so blind he didn’t even realize that this brought no pleasure to Dean, he was too furious, too far gone, couldn’t even notice the pain in his brother’s screams.

And then the worst thing happened as Dean’s body betrayed him.

“Come on, Dean!” Sam bellowed, gripping the man’s soft dick and beginning to pump it. He must have realized it, finally, that Dean was not getting off on this at all, and was taking matters in his own hand, literally. “This is what you love, what you want! This is what you are, so say it already!”

He was getting hard from Sam’s fervent strokes, he couldn’t stop his physical reaction no matter how repelled he was by it, and then he couldn’t believe it but he was moaning. Sam managed to find his prostate and when he did, he angled his hips so that he could hit it as many times as possible. It was excruciating and the worst, the helplessness killing him, but then he was throwing his head back and trying to focus on the pleasure. It was the only good thing—and he was already cursing himself for thinking of this as good—in this goddamn torture session, so he tried to block out the pain for a bit.

Suddenly, it felt good. Suddenly, his mind short-circuited, and Dean was gone, completely lost in agonizing pain and bittersweet pleasure, and he caved in.

“Yes! Sammy, want it, this is it!” he moaned loudly, rocking back on his brother’s cock while desperately bucking into the fist that was pulling and twisting, pressing and pumping his leaking erection. “Want this, I love it, yes! More, more, fuck, more!”

Then, with only a few more strokes and thrusts, Dean was arching his back and coming hard, his orgasm ripping through his body and blinding him in an instant. He was seeing stars, and then he wasn’t anymore, he was sobbing and whimpering as he felt Sam coming too, deep inside Dean. He filled him with his hot come, which then oozed out of his hole, blood and come trickling down his ass, and this was always part of the fantasy but it wasn’t, not this, not like this.

Sam bit him. He bit his neck, sinking his teeth into his flesh until he broke the skin, until he was bleeding even more and whining miserably, and Sam laughed. He then licked up the blood, lapping at the wound he created, making Dean shiver, before he was pulling out of him and then cold. Dean felt cold air all over his naked and sweaty body, the icy chills giving him goosebumps, and when he opened his eyes, he saw his brother standing not too far from him and getting dressed. He then looked around, picked up Dean’s clothes, and threw them at the broken shell of a man.

Sam looked down at him with an unreadable expression, his voice cold as he said, “You’re worse than a monster.”

And then he turned around and walked away, leaving Dean naked, bleeding, and with the tempting thought of grabbing the blade and ending this nightmare.

But instead he just broke down crying as realization sunk in, weeping for what he lost.

 


End file.
